Shooting in the dark
by cheeselord
Summary: Finn hated to be right. The sticky blood clung to the walls and to the carpet floor as he examined the scene with mild interest. His insticts told him to say no to PB but it was too hard to say no to someone like her. He also hated to be wrong. Overall he was just an unhappy detective -Fuck- he muttered -In what kind of shit I dived into?-Now he desperatly needed a cold beer.
1. Princess dont waltz into police stations

**First of all, i gotta say this was inspired by The ice king gets 'iced' by zengods (although i didnt even finished to read his story but suddenly as kool aid breaks through walls the idea broke through my brain saying 'Oh yeah!') Second; it is only a side proyect. I'm currently working on something else and want to finish it first, so i will maybe take my sweet time... but not to much. That being said, read and enjoy.**

* * *

I

His head ached.

Correction: His head ached like hell as he walked to his cubiculum. Finn wished it was because he had had a good last night; plenty of booze and girls and especially money, but that was not the cause. Some idiot thought it was a good idea to rob the 7/11 where he was buying his beers and dinner and he, been the goodie, two shoes he was, tried to stop him. An exchange of words and punches latter, the robber was running with his tail between his legs but not before getting a good left hook to his right eye that now was swelling an ugly red. It will be down by the end of the week and the free beer he received helped to ease the pain but the fact that he had been stuck in that shitty job for almost a decade and that it was Monday didn't help to ease him.

-Glad to see you haven't lose your touch, eh Finn-

-Can it Slicer- That dude could really get into his nerves; boasting about being a big shot but in reality being nothing more than just another crooked officer. But his words had some truth in them and that made them much more hurtful. The police force in the corrupt, gang crawling and dark district called "Grasslands" was a mock of justice. Either you became amoral and corrupted letting your dreams fade to nothingness or you became a frustrated, low ranked, bitter officer. The higher ups saw to that. The last had happened to Finn. He was getting older and still kept that detective post in the most shitty police division in the shittiest part of the city. At least he was recognized for his intuitive skills. Thinking that one of those days doing the correct thing was going to become his undone he seated on his chair, somewhat admiring the paper mess on the desk. He would sort them tomorrow, he said to himself, as he has been saying the last two months.

-How are you doing Finn?- asked someone as the screen of his desk computer came to life –Woa, Finn what happened to your eye?-

The voice was not easy to mistake, it had something that gave it a personality of its own apart of the slightly chubby, tanned guy that produced it –Beating bad guys, sticking my nose in other businesses. The usual Cinnamon-

Peter Cinnamon, or "Cinnamon Bun" to his friends. If there existed a thing as being too naïve, he was it, also he was such a good guy always trying to help and because of that ended being harassed by the other policemen. That was exactly the reason of his nickname, because he was as good as the apple pies of the old lady Treetrunks, and that lady made pretty damn good pies. It was also the reason everybody in the force feared the poor guy would end up in a ditch in the desert for doing the wrong good thing, if such thing existed.

-The boss wants you in "room 4" he said it was an emergency-

-Thanks, I'll be right there… after I get my hobo-sock-tasteless-free-coffee-

-Uhm, ok just don't make him wait-

-Don't worry-

Room 4, one of the six rooms the police station had to interrogate witnesses, possible culprits and from time to time to use less conventional methods to extract the truth they wanted. Now, this was pretty much a routine thing, possibly another old lady that had lost her purse and just had to cope with the procedure to have her credit cards disabled. But as he poured the black liquid in his mug, Finn couldn't avoid feeling the hairs on the back of his head stand up; usually that mean serious business. And as Finn opened the door to the room he had the fleetingly tough he hated to be right.

-PB- She was wearing a simple pink dress with a sash a tone darker around her waist. No jewelry or fancy bag. One asked to be robbed if walking the Grasslands with some of those articles, even if it was only for fifteen meters.

-Finn, how have you been?-

-Been better, and you?- he took a long gulp of the coffee remembering why he hated it and decided to leave it on the table that separated him of the princess.

-The same-

Bonnibel Stanley, "Bonnie", "PB", "Bubblegum" or "Princess". She went by many names at her young age and she also had the background to justify them: Beautiful, smart, cunning and the most important of all; daughter of a multimillionaire candy entrepreneur and heir to family business: Candy Kingdom Inc. The sweet little treats gave a lot of money and in that city money could buy a lot of things, many of which were not normally at sale in your regular supermarket. And the worst of all: Finn had an influctuation over her that ended in not so well terms. Being rejected and constantly used was never good terms. And now she was sitting in the crappy steel chair infront of him, her hands on her legs and a polite smile on her face.

-Finn, could we talk somewhere more private? – It was somewhat kind of ironic. A police station was no place to talk about serious, private topics. They were crawling with "rats" either from the corrupted politicians or from the criminal gangs.

–Lets go-

Completely forgetting the horrendous cup of coffee sitting on the desk, Finn guided his "guest" through the police station and out of it.

-My car or yours? - Finn questioned

-No disrespect but I prefer mine- At this Finn smiled. Of course, he almost forgot he was dealing with a rich person.

Soon a black car with tinted glasses stopped in front of them. Luxury was dripping everywhere as he entered the back door. He recognized the butler driving it and greeted with a nod of the head. Peppermint. Finn knew near to nothing of the butler except that he had a estrange name, was very educated, had a british accent and apparently had been with Bonnibel since she was a little girl.

-I believe you know my cousin- Started Bonnibel as the car erupted into life once more. Finn avoided her gaze preferring to look out of the window, the faces of the pedestrians passing too fast to be recognized. A small sarcastic smile appeared on his lips as she said that.

How could anyone not know Earl Lemongrab Stanley? More commonly known as "That Obnoxious idiot". Not very smart and not much of a pleasant fellow, he didn't had charisma and certainly not the looks as he was a sickly yellow, skinny and had an oversized head and a distressing high voice. Famous for his incompetence and desire to take over the multigenerational successful family business. Of course he knew him.

-Yes-

-I believe his greed has been taken too far and he has been involved in not so legal business-

-Continue-

-I want him out, but I have no proof or leads of what he is into. I need you to investigate him-

Other way of saying the fool had bit more than what he could chew and that he had grown careless. All around Ooo it was truth spoken in whispers that almost every corporation was involved in not so legal occupations, especially big monopolies like Candy Kingdom Inc. that defended viciously their "territory". The king didn't suffered usurpers and even if his ways were "honeyed" they were nothing near legal or even morally good. The idiot must have committed a big mistake so the princess had to come in person and fix it.

-Me? I think there are like a thousand folks higher up that own you a favor or two-

-I want something more discreet, after all he is family-

Finn distrusted her, in fact if anything his police career had taught him was to never trust powerful-ambiguous people and never to take things as they were said and done. There was always an ulterior motive when it was all about family quarrels and fights for power. Something smelled really fishy, like the three month pizza in his refrigerator. He was being used, as always, but this time he could not foresee why him. She had the power to crush her cousin under her thumb and just had to ask it with a pretty please with a cherry on top, but instead choose to come to him, take her sweet time and investigate the reasons instead of planting some fake evidence and paying to a judge to see this matter solved. There was something that didn't fit in. But what man could say no to a sweet smile, a musical voice and tender treats of a woman? Especially this woman that was so versed in the art making people believe they had hit the jackpot when they were really being handed a flaming bag full of shit. But above all the fishiness and the half-truths she had a big bundle of money with his name on it. It wasn't the first fishy job he took and not the first he took from her and certainly not the last. If he was still useful he would end with a good recommendation, some money and alive and breathing. So ignoring the bad feeling he looked into the so innocent looking eyes of Bonnibel for the first time in their conversation.

-Don't regret coming to me princess-

-Half now and the other half after you finished?-

-As always-

-As always- Bubblegum echoed

The car stopped in front of the police station. They had been driving in circles.

-Peppermint, Princess- He nodded and stepped out of the car

- In this is a recorded number, we will contact you if there is any leads. Call if you find or need anything- she tossed a cheap cellphone to him- Or if anything goes wrong-

He flashed he a smile- Sweetie, in this line of work something always goes wrong-

She smiled a little smile of her own and he closed the door, effectively blocking the view of her. Man she had him so wrapped around her little, delicate, slim fingers.

* * *

**So how was it?**


	2. Flambo

He loosened up the blue tie and unbuttoned the first bottoms of his white shirt as he looked in his black pants the packet of cigarettes he swore he had. The pedestrians didn't mind him as he took out one of the nicotine filled paper and put it in his mouth, another soul in the big city, another poor guy trapped in "The Grasslands"; he even had the looks. A lighter materialized from the pocket on his raincoat and lighted the cancer stick that was hanging on his mouth; the bitter, irritating smoke of his cheap cigarettes filled his lungs as a feeling of partial relief filled his head. It was time to go, to star the real work and not the sad excuse of honest living he had been doing all day in that office. He had waited patiently to the end of his shift; he had even been polite to the nagging bitch that insisted on that he was a pig and had no sense of justice. A smile crept to his face as he remembered the face she got when the file of her robbed house accidentally fell on the trash can and never got out.

The first thing to do was to find a lead. The princess was not so helpful with the details but he knew the right person to go for them. After all she didn't came to him for his sweet smile and hot looks. Finn walked the street, vaguely familiar with his surroundings and somewhat alert of the small thief's that populated the area, three cigarettes later he was in front of his destination: "The molten lava". One of the many pubs and bars that sprouted in Ooo like bad weed, pun intended, but this had something especial. This was the reunion site of the "Fire Gang". Quite a vicious bunch they were, the kind that shoot first, go ape shit and destroy your house and then your neighbor's house and then ask questions… to the surviving people. Entering the bar he looked by the corner of his eyes a crazy dude with a carton that instead of apocalyptic prophecies read "Hello" and that was waving at all the people. The guy he was looking for was easy to spot, hunched over the bar, talking to the bartender and laughing out loud. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt, converse and some ripped off jeans, his red hair in a mohawk and somewhat skinny silhouette standing out over all the other buffed up thugs; not precisely the kind of guy that did a good job in concealing himself.

-Flambo- he called out as he reached the bar.

-Finn, dude, come and have a drink!- he then gulped the last of his beer and ordered another.

He gladly accepted the invitation as he seated on a stool next to the said man and kindly ordered a plain beer with no spit on it.

As many other things in the Grasslands, Flambo was a mystery. Finn never got to hear the story of how a smart guy like him ended on the "Fire Gang" and he doubted anybody knew. No official name he knew about, no digital prints and no people that knew him before entering the gang made difficult to track his backstory. All just knew him for Flambo, and if what he said could be trusted, he was born out of the interspecies breeding of a mountain puma, a wolf and a witch in the most crazy sex-ritual-orgy-session ever, raised by harsh mountain people in the wilderness at the north of Ooo, deciding that hunting wild life was not his thing, he came into the city at the tender age of sixteen to make a life out for him and have some fun. Such was his sense of humor.

-What brings the good detective to this fine bar? - he was a little tipsy. Good.

-We both know there is no "fine bar" nowhere around here-

-As serious as always. What happened to the cheerful policeman I used to know?-

-It was washed up by this piss of a beer and cheap cigarettes-

-Relax a little, at least here you can find good quality booze-

-Don't get me started on that- Finn said and took a large plunge of his freshly and cold mug of beer

-I heard of you and Flame-

-Good conversation starter champ- He took another drink of his mug- It didn't worked out-

-Uh, why, you two looked happy-

-Daddy didn't liked cops-

This case had a thing to bring out his suck-ish love life. First it was his platonic sweetheart Bonnibel and now it was the chick he had some of his most happy times before it all ended. To his shame, he should had saw that coming, his father being the leader of the Fire Gang (even though he didn't knew at the beginning) and he being a "clean" cop, things ought to get ugly. A few bruises and broken bones latter his father convinced him to never see her daughter again… but just in case he send her away of Ooo. Funny how a famous criminal didn't wanted to get his daughter involved in the family business

-Harsh dude, harsh. Lava man another beer for my friend over here and charge it on my tap. Let him drown his sorrows in alcohol -

The giant and somewhat reddish bartender just looked at Flambo and grunted –Flambo I swear to Grob, the next time you call me that I'm going to break your nose-

-Yeah, yeah, so what make you come to your old friend Flambo?-

-I have a job-

-Another lady lost her cat?-

-No, this is serious. Bonnibel came this morning-

-Oh-

-Yea, oh. Seems like there are some unusual fishy business going in her little enterprise, some people making deals behind her back-

-And you want to know if there have been some strange movements, right?-

-Yes-

-So what's in for me?-

-The usual, 10% from the "reward"-

-Ja,ja no man, that doesn't cut it. This is big and you know it. I don't want too much, just 20%-

-Fifteen-

-Twenty-

-Fifteen and I will consider coming to you for another job-

-Good, fifteen and a round of beers-

-Suit yourself-

-So, who I am to tell you and who are you to hear but there has been the rumor of some unusual shipments delivered to the Princess warehouses late at night -

-What warehouses?-

-Pier nine, warehouse 3. Big ass shit, wouldn't miss it. -

-The contents?-

-Don't know-

-Names?-

-Some weird fellows that keep them to themselves. They go by the name of Fish-People or some crap like that, nothing more. These dudes just appeared out of thin air one morning. Weird as hell I tell you-

-Something else?-

-Finn, man, this looks like a big operation. They have been working a week nonstop-

-Good to know, expect the paycheck in your mail-box-

-I don't have mail-box remember, some douchbag exploded it-

-An old friend maybe?- Finn slammed some money in the counter, the first part of the pay.

-Sarcastic aren't you?- At this Finn walked away, starting to light another cigarette- Lava man another one- And a sickening crunch could be heard as a choir of laughter erupted from the people on the bar.

Good, Finn thought as he looked the gray sky that loomed over him, it was going to rain. Better make haste to the docks. If Flambo was right there will be movement this night and Flambo, although was such a sneaky little punk, was good at what he did.

-Hello- said the same weird hobo as he passed him, Finn absentmindedly putting a coin in a cup beside him and returning the greeting with a weak wave of hand.


	3. The mysterious woman

The mysterious woman

Finn hated with all his soul the wait that accompanied the investigation process. Avoiding being detected mean that there could be no source of light, even when he was a good distance away, partially hidden; smoking was out of the question and that mean long hours to no end with nothing more than a lukewarm coffee and low volume music so he didn't gauge his eyes out of his sockets in desperation. The radio was set randomly on a blues station, the tranquil music somewhat soothing his nerves, maybe sometime later he would search more music of this Miles Davis guy. Finally, after waiting for hours, there was movement on the warehouse, a big truck came accompanied of two cars. The night was moonless but Finn could identify ten or so guys pouring out of the vehicles and starting to unload some boxes and packages. _Time to get serious_, he thought, somewhat bitter.

Getting off his car he maneuvered through the distinct ship-boxes and different cargo that was left there laying in the docks, expecting for the next ship to take them to their destiny. Getting into the warehouse was somewhat easy; obviously these guys were amateurs, as they left the entrances unguarded. Everyone said that with technology the need of field agents would decrease until they were not necessary, but as Finn tried to make sense of the strange scribbling on the boxes and taking photos with a small camera, he knew that to be far from the truth. Everyone could learn how to get dirty, to get into the darkest and foulest pits of the human soul and society, but not so many were disposed to kneel down on the dirt, get their hands blooded and smell the shit first handedly. People like him would always be necessary as long as people as Bonnibel existed.

Finn dismissed those thoughts aside as he peered inside a room in the warehouse. It was dark inside and the door was locked, both great indicators that whatever it was inside was certainly of more value than the rest of unknown packages. Removing his lock picking equipment Finn easily breached the cheap lock and with a satisfactory grin the door opened slowly, as if it was accepting defeat and letting the victor enter unperturbed. Rummaging in his pocket he got his lighter and closed the door after him. Overall the room didn't had anything more interesting, some boxes that read fragile and one or two rare and expensive items that came from very distant lands. There was even a marble statue but because of his lack of artistic knowledge, Finn was unable to identify it. Thinking he was done, Finn absentmindedly checked the last corner of the room and what he saw made him take a sharp breath. There, in the room, was someone tied to a chair with the head covered by a white cloth bag. The ups and downs of the chest made the person alive, and the breast made this person a her.

Not my problem, he whispered, in a vain attempt to delude himself. He would only walk out of this place the same way he entered, review the info he got, search for a lead that connected Lemongrab and this operation, maybe interrogate one or two thugs and he would be enjoying some well-earned cash. This woman was not his problem. The reality was that even if he managed to do those things as smoothly as he wished for, that lady over there would be a goner the moment he leaved the room. She would surely be tortured for whatever reason she was here and most surely be killed once they got the information they wanted. Too much trouble, he though as the scenario in which he freed that woman and escaped that warehouse played on his mind. In the best case scenario she was a helpless squealing girl, the worst case scenario; she was a dangerous person that would stab him the moment he turned his back to her. The latter being more probable as she was clad in blue ripped off jeans, brown boots, a tank top that read "Sucker" and was well toned... and the fact that she was tied, with a cloth bag on her head, abducted by a criminal gang with which she may have some kind of connection.

But Finn was too much of a goodie two shoes.

Reaching out he took of the bag and revealed a woman with sharp features, black eyes and a cascading plain black hair. A very beautiful, muzzled woman and a very angry one, telling by the look she was giving to him. He could practically hear the fuck you she was surely thinking.

-Ok lady, don't worry- It seemed that those were the wrong words as she did exactly the opposite and started trashing in the chair

-Look, I'm a cop- he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and trying to steady her

-That was a poor choice of words, uh?- Finn muttered to himself as he only achieved to make the woman more vicious on her failed attempts to free herself and practically signaling all the thugs of his location.

-Look here lady, I don't like it and you surely despise it more than I do but we are both stuck in here and if you don't stop thrashing and causing a motherfucking ruckus we are both going to end with a nice hole in our foreheads. If I really wanted to hurt you, believe me, you would know by now-

This did the trick as the trashing subsided and the fuck you looks diminished in intensity… if only a little. Taking out his pocket knife Finn made a move cut the ropes that trapped her legs loose but was interrupted when the woman came crashing into him and send him tumbling to the floor.

-That's what you get for being a good guy- he cynically spat – A shove to your chest and a crazy woman crashing on your chest-

Finn threw the woman aside and made a move to get up, immediately realizing the reason why the muzzled woman tacked him. A bullet speed too close to home as he ducked behind some crates, shot by one of three thugs that looked really angry someone was sticking his nose on their operations.

No more need to be sneaky, he though as his pistol materialized in his hand, hammered and ready to shot down thugs…only to be stopped by the sight of the woman trashing on the floor, her hands still tied and her muzzled screams of help, or curses. Probably was the latter.

-Shit- quickly reaching out Finn took one of the chair legs and dragged the woman to safety through the shootout, many bullets barely missing their mark.

-Look sorry I just forgot about you- he half heartily apologized once again behind the crates while removing the piece of cloth that muzzled her and cutting the ropes.

-Well, that is what I get for helping a jackass- she spoke for the first time. Her voice was deep, not so very, but enough to add sexiness to her and a smartass tone that didn't clashed with her looks. The irony of her words was not lost.

-Point taken- Finn answered, deciding to let the matter slip –Do you know how to use one of these? - He said pointing to his gun.

-Are you giving a stranger a gun? Good move Einstein-

-Well is either that or be remodeled to the likes of a rockefort cheese down by these guys- loosing no time Finn took his pocket pistol.

-Yes I know how to use a gun- she said taking it off his hands –But this sad excuse of a gun? Well let's see what I can do with it-

Another witty retort was not allowed as more thugs flooded the room and left them huddling together as to avoid a bullet ripping their arms or legs.

-Any ideas?- he said as shooting blindly to their attackers.

-I though you where the hero here!-

-Well, I didn't expected to find a damsel in distress-

-Shit, I'm no damsel, and no I don't have an idea-

-I can see that. Well I guess we are fucked-

And in a mad dash Finn popped out of cover half of his body and shoot the remaining four bullets of his clip. None hit a target, and Finn was about to curse when one of his shoots hit a crate that read "Dangerous, inflammable" and the place was lighted up by a big ass explosion.

-Fuck! - he screamed as the heat wave hit him fully on the face.

-No time to stay still- answered the woman that took him by the hand and took him running through the debris and disoriented brutes.

-Who the fuck starts a shootout in a warehouse full of explosives!-

-Dumb fuckers- she answered as more bullets came flying towards them- Fuckers that are multiplying-

-So where to now?- she said once they managed to get out the warehouse thanks to the confusion –And don't tell me that you don't have a plan because…-

-Don't get your panties in a knot, my car is over there-

Both ran to the car when the hooligans caught up and started shooting again. This time there were no explosive crates to save them and it was luck that saved Finn of being hit by any bullet as he practically jumped inside his car and ignited it. The woman suddenly appeared beside him and ushered him to get the fuck out of there. Not waiting for another order, Finn step on the gas and both were flying out of there before the shady criminals had time to follow them. Just for precautions Finn took another road to the city, one rarely used and rural that allowed them to lose their persecutors.

-Look where you are going smarty pants-

Finn just grumbled his response as the old chevy stumbled upon another hole in the ill kept road, producing a small hiss to his newest companion and partner in crime, while he drove on the rural road in the dark of the night. Now he realized she was hit on a leg, but was not making fuzz about it. In fact he believed her to have run well over one hundred meters with the wound on her leg as if nothing really happened. Deciding this was not the time to tend to it he focused on the road again. -Watch it; you got a lady in here!-

-Not a damsel?-

She, like himself, grumbled a response. A bleeding lady, he added mentally, taking out a cancer stick, lighting it and taking a long draft of it as it was left hanging out of his mouth. Offering one to this new acquaintance, she accepted it and took a draft of her own.

-Just what I needed- she expressed for the both of them. Although saying he knew little more than nothing was an understatement, he was stuck with this strange chick that appeared out of thin air, unleashed a shootout and hopped into his car. She knew things, dangerous thing of shady people, things that where best left alone and hidden where none could find them. Things that Finn needed to know.

-Could you drive worst?-

-A bleeding lady and an ungrateful one- he added out loud. The raven haired stranger was oblivious to the sarcasm of Finn and continued to pester him with her side remarks.

-Jeez, you drive like a nervous thirteen year old on his first date. This…- she pointed the wound –hurts, you know?-

Well, he knew she had a sharp tongue. That and that she was bleeding on his worn off tapestry; that blood will give him trouble latter but it seemed she would survive.

-Its only a flesh wound- he said referring to the wound

-Sorry I am nagging about being shot and that I am bleeding off in your shitty car but I can't avoid it!- the girl answered with not so little sarcasm, apparently a little ticked off by the remark Finn was giving her –Believe me when I say it hurts me more than it does to you-

-Sure it does-

-By the way, I don't have-

-Have what?-

-You, know, what you said back there-

-What?-

-Panties-

And she smiled; a playful smile that mocked the redness in his face and the spurting of intelligible words and over the awkwardness of that entire situation, before laughing out loud. Both gestures disappeared, drifted away by the next bump in the road that Finn failed to avoid thanks to the previous comment.

-Watch it smartass- she said, clearly pissed off.


End file.
